Translator: Pai_

The door to the library opened, and the man who revealed himself appeared to be around the same age as Turan.

In terms of ordinary humans, he would appear to be in his mid to late twenties, but as a high-ranking noble, he was probably somewhere between seventy and a hundred years old.

With slightly drooping eyes and a well-groomed beard giving him the impression of a scholar, he looked like someone who would kindly explain things if asked.

"Hmm? Turan? Why are you here? Don’t tell me someone actually told you to come?"

Surprisingly, he was neither startled by Turan’s appearance, nor did he show hostility or even fear.

His reaction was just like that of a neighbor who wasn’t particularly happy to see someone show up uninvited.

It was hard to believe this person was a mastermind plotting some horrendous scheme, and Turan subtly raised his guard.

"There’s a way to know everything. Kovach Nagin... no, should I call you Monarch?"

The one who had taken over the body of the head of House Nagin frowned slightly.

"Well, call me whatever you like. Kovach, Monarch, Barad, Sabrion, Del, Kamas, Akim, Koloa, Seokhoon......."

As he listed off all kinds of names, he blew through his lips with a strange sound.

Watching that ridiculous display, Turan pointed with his chin toward the horrific scene unfolding nearby and asked.

"So, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"An experiment. No, since the results are already drawn, I suppose it's more accurate to call it verification."

Instead of flaring up at the off-topic response that diverted the point, Turan answered with an icy, expressionless face.

After a brief silence, Kovach Nagin burst out in maniacal laughter and slapped his knee.

"How boring! You should at least get angry in times like this, there’s no childish charm otherwise."

Kovach Nagin, or Monarch, was far more frivolous than Turan had expected.

Only slightly better than Ymir, who had served under him.

Well, thinking back on it, even the persona revealed in that journal hadn’t seemed particularly serious.

Wasn’t “this bastard” and “that bastard” basically his default?

You’d think someone would gain some gravitas after living for thousands of years... but these so-called gods were hardly new to acting as though time itself didn’t apply to their mentalities.

"If that’s your standard for childishness, then almost none of your colleagues would qualify as adults. Those who claim to be thousands of years old."

While sneering, Turan checked the reactions of the Nagin wizards around them.

There was not a single one of them surprised at the mention of thousands of years of life, which meant they all knew the secret about him.

That fact wasn't particularly surprising.

Naturally, to commit such horrific acts, there had to be a deep sense of communion among them.

Whatever promises had been made to commit such atrocities without remorse... he couldn’t begin to imagine.

"Not wrong, so I can’t argue with you. Maybe it’s because they all gathered from weird games? They’re generally lacking."

Monarch, replying as if agreeing with Turan’s insult, glanced around and then clicked his tongue.

"Oh no, you killed that one too? That’s a problem. You really shouldn’t interfere with someone else’s business like this......."

He pointed with his chin toward the mangled corpse in the distance, once referred to as king by the dark elves.

That he recognized it immediately despite its ruined state was probably due to the clothes it still wore.

"If you're going to raise a dog, you should train it well so it doesn’t bite people."

"And a guy who breaks into a house guarded by that dog and beats it to death thinks he has the right to say that?"

"This doesn’t exactly look like your house though."

When it came to such petty back-and-forth, it was Monarch who raised both hands first and surrendered.

"Fine, it’s all my fault. Let’s stop here. So, aren’t you going to tell me how you figured it out and came here? I’m sure we blocked all information leaks from the outside."

"If you give me a proper answer to my question, I might consider it."

"You’re refusing to answer, but in such a polite way."

Anyway, just as he was grumbling that young ones were always a headache, a golden flash engulfed Monarch and the surrounding Nagin wizards.

It was an attack that looked like a golden wave had surged forth, as dozens of whips connected in a flowing motion.

It was a surprise attack by Solif, who had stealthily approached while the two were conversing.

The Nagin wizards gathered at the entrance of the library screamed in shock upon witnessing this.

However, the one at the front, Monarch, remained completely unshaken and calmly stepped forward to block it.

With a gesture of his hand, a bright red mass surged from his palm, clashing with the golden wave and producing a hissing sound like burning meat.

“Ooh...!”

“Family Head-nim!”

It was clearly a technique completely unrelated to the Nagin bloodline’s ability, yet they appeared simply pleased with their family head’s performance.

Eventually, when the golden wave failed to completely burn through the red mass and faded away, black ash and scorched clumps of flesh dropped to the ground.

Turan could discern the nature of the substance from its shape and smell.

One of the opponent’s bloodlines was that of a biologist, who could manipulate living matter.

It seemed he had extracted large quantities of flesh and used it to block the Light of Judgement.

Even while his mind was analyzing the situation, Turan’s body moved instinctively.

Just because one attack didn’t work, there was no need to stand still and let the enemy counterattack.

He had already confirmed there was no room for further negotiation.

Through the smoke produced by the burning flesh from the Light of Judgement, a railgun was fired, aiming for Monarch.

No matter how powerful a god may be, taking a direct hit from that should at least cause damage.

However, just as Monarch’s eyes gleamed, the flying metal sphere lost all force and dropped helplessly to the ground.

‘What the...?’

It wasn’t blocked by any physical means rather, the attack just dropped as if by its own accord.

Could it be a defense using magnetism?

To check, Turan quickly pulled out a stone instead of a metal sphere and hurled it, but it too failed to reach Monarch and fell powerlessly to the ground.

At that moment, as Solif was about to leap at the enemies, he suddenly halted and shouted quickly to Turan in explanation.

"If you lift both feet off the ground, your body will fall!"

Hearing this, Turan realized how the opponent was blocking their attacks.

Lawmaker.

It was clearly one of the bloodline abilities Monarch possessed, an ability that enforced specific rules within a designated space.

The condition, presumably, was a restriction on movement for anything not in contact with the ground.

As if to prove this, a crow flying in the distance suddenly plummeted with a squawk the moment it entered a certain range.

Through a brief test, it was clear that the effect forcibly pulled down all objects not touching the ground, fire and lightning included, despite their intangible nature.

“Attack him up close! Armania, transform!”

With that command, Turan charged toward the enemy.

Of course, since lifting both feet off the ground simultaneously would trigger the effect, his movement was somewhat slower than actual running, but thanks to activating the Ruvan bloodline, even that was far faster than the sprinting of average nobles.

However, even faster than him was Armania, who had received the order.

In an instant, he transformed into a massive great sea serpent roughly seventy meters long. Without needing to move at all, just by coiling and uncoiling his body, he brought the Nagin nobles in front of the library within striking range.

“Aaaargh!”

With a series of desperate screams, three or four Nagin nobles who failed to dodge were either impaled by Armania’s fangs or flung aside after being struck by his body.

And most astonishing of all, the library building struck by Armania’s body collapsed with a thunderous roar.

“What?”

“No way!?”

At that sight, both Turan and Solif opened their eyes wide in shock.

With a typical building, being struck by such a gigantic great sea serpent would naturally lead to its collapse. But the library of Orem was a legacy of the old empire, directly built by the ancient Lame Goddess herself.

In terms of magnitude, it was on par with the Temple of the Sun or the Red Fortress, it was not a building that should have collapsed from a single body slam by Armania.

Even in his surprise at the unexpected situation, Turan caught sight of Monarch swiftly creating something beneath his feet to slide away and dodge.

It seemed the restriction of being unable to lift one’s body off the ground wasn’t exclusive to them.

“Ugh... tch, there was still more to extract, what a waste.”

The moment Monarch clicked his fingers while muttering something unintelligible, the dozen or so Nagin wizards who had barely escaped clutched their chests with a pained grunt.

And one second later, their flesh burst forth from their bodies like an explosion.

The grotesque sight of their dismantled bodies being rapidly reassembled with squelching noises was utterly horrifying.

"What is that now!?"

“Beasts controlled by him. Be careful!”

[■□■□■□!]

Turan had seen those monsters before.

In the underground labyrinth of the Enril Desert, within the Tomb of the Gods, creatures made from the flesh of ancient giants.

However, the forms of the mutated Nagin wizards were far more grotesque than those he’d seen back then.

They had an extra pair of arms and legs, and several horns sprouting around their heads as if to protect them, cearly, Monarch had spent thousands of years refining them in his own way.

[Ugh!]

And it wasn’t just the living ones that had transformed.

Armania, who had been secretly savoring the Nagin wizards he’d impaled on his teeth, gagged in shock and spat them out as their corpses suddenly mutated and thrashed about.

Quickly reverting to human form and standing beside Turan, he dry-heaved and muttered.

“Those things... taste horrible...”

“Just bite them, don’t eat them. And if I catch you trying to taste another human again, you’re really getting punished.”

“Urgh.”

After giving Armania a short but firm warning, Turan focused his attention entirely on gauging the enemy’s power.

The ones he had encountered while wandering the Tomb of the Gods in the past were just around mid to upper-mid rank, strong enough for someone like him to defeat one-on-one.

If he were to face them now, he could likely wipe them out like low-tier mobs.

However, these ones now were far more powerful, perhaps due to extensive enhancements or because they were freshly created using the bodies of highly capable wizards.

They were just slightly weaker than the mutated giant queen who had overpowered Ferga Zahar, a top-ranking noble.

Not only were there over a dozen of them, but the restriction of having to move without lifting both feet off the ground made it all the worse, and Solif, who was closest, was quickly surrounded.

“Damn, these bastards are filthy...!”

The only fortunate thing was that the monsters were terribly weak to fire.

As they touched the white flames conjured by Solif’s skill, the creatures recoiled, letting out their distinct, hideous screams.

A few occasionally managed to push through and swipe their hooked claws bravely, but they couldn’t penetrate the armor, a sacred relic of Varaha, or the tough skin granted by the Guardian bloodline.

Meanwhile, Armania, transformed once more into a great sea serpent, intercepted the monsters charging from the rear.

These monsters seemed to be formed from the piled-up flesh in the plaza; they were far weaker than the ones mutated from the Nagin wizards just moments ago, but their numbers reached into the hundreds.

[Aaaaargh-!]

With a mighty roar, the massive sea serpent swung his tail, instantly sweeping away dozens of them.

He could’ve bitten them to ensure they were killed, but they tasted so vile that he opted instead to smash them one by one with his enormous tail.

Thanks to Solif and Armania creating an opening, Turan was able to pursue Monarch, who was fleeing far ahead.

The enemy was gliding away swiftly, propelled by a rolling mass of flesh beneath his feet, shaped like a wheel.

‘I can catch him... at this rate.’

Turan’s running pace, carefully keeping both feet in contact with the ground, was just slightly faster than his opponent’s.

After sprinting for a few minutes, exiting the city of Orem and heading north, Monarch glanced back, clicked his tongue, and stopped in place.

"Damn, you're fast..."

Even while maintaining Concealment during the chase, Monarch acted as if he could clearly see Turan.

Wondering if it might be a guess, Turan quietly circled to the side to prepare for an attack, only for Monarch’s gaze to immediately turn in that direction.

“I can see you, you idiot. You really think I’ve lived thousands of years without preparing for Concealment?”

As if to prove it, a third eye protruding from Monarch’s forehead was staring straight at him.

It appeared to be an organ created through the power of the Biologist bloodline.

Clicking his tongue, Turan deactivated Concealment, and Monarch muttered with a curious look.

“Man, I’m dying of curiosity. I made sure to divert all attention toward the desert, so why did you suddenly show up here...? Could it be there’s a traitor on our side? Won’t you tell me? Think of it as exchanging a piece of information each.”

Monarch still acted leisurely, as though he had no belief that he was about to be caught, killed, and even have his soul bound.

Turan realized the reason for Monarch’s relaxed attitude the moment he got close.

It wasn’t that the opponent had another hidden trump card.

‘There’s... no soul.’

In Monarch, in other words, in the body of Kovach Nagin, there were no symbols whatsoever.

Not even the symbol of the Nagin bloodline that should have been there.

Instead, something like spiritual threads connected to the head and joints appeared to be manipulating the body.

From the beginning, instead of direct soul possession, he was controlling it remotely.

Who would have thought it was possible to exert such power from a distance, even without having the soul present?

No wonder they called him Puppetmaster.

Turan clicked his tongue, realizing that killing this body would be pointless since the real soul wasn’t here, and thus couldn’t be bound.

“An exchange, huh. And if I tell you, you’ll believe it?”

“We can impose constraints so we both tell the truth. You have the Eye of Truth too, so we can cross-check. How about it?”

Turan considered the offer for a few seconds and then nodded.

Killing him outright would only leave him with a corpse.

Of course, eliminating a body with Family Head-level magic power was a great gain, but compared to the true gain, capturing the soul, it was only a minor success.

In contrast, exchanging information before killing him would at least reveal what they were trying to accomplish here.

Of course, he’d have to give one piece of information as well... but if what the opponent wanted to know was how he discovered the truth, then Turan already had a prepared answer for that.

“Fine, I proclaim a Regulation. Here and now, we will each ask one question and exchange one answer. Lies are forbidden, and if one side listens to the answer and breaks the deal, constraints will follow. Do you agree?”

“Agreed.”

As Monarch gave a short answer, Turan immediately felt an invisible power seep into his inner self.

It was likely a constraint imposed by the Lawmaker bloodline.

A power akin to a curse that would enforce consequences should the agreement be broken.

Confirming that, Turan asked his question before Monarch could speak.

“Then I’ll ask first. What was the purpose of the ritual where you massacred people in Orem?”

“To extract the power of the library.”

As it matched what he had half-expected, Turan silently clicked his tongue.

In truth, he had already guessed that the power within the building had vanished, judging from how the library collapsed so easily earlier.

A better question might have been: “What are you trying to do by extracting the library’s power?” But he hadn’t asked that, considering the possibility that the collapse had merely been a side effect of the ritual.

If the answer had been “We haven’t extracted the power from the library” then even the single question would have gone to waste.

“Then it’s my turn. Who was the first to provide you with the motive to head for Orem?”

Monarch, as a possessor of the Lawmaker bloodline, knew how to ask questions skillfully.

Had he asked something like “Who told you I was in the library?” Turan could have simply answered that no such person existed.

The soul form of whatever god it was had only said, “Go to the library” but hadn’t said anything about some horrific ritual taking place there.

If the question had been “Who was it that suggested going to the library?” then he could’ve answered with Solif or Meisa’s name.

But even this question wasn’t entirely unavoidable.

No, rather than saying it couldn’t be avoided, it was more accurate to say that this was a question Monarch fundamentally couldn’t win.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Yeah. I don’t know.”

To Turan’s answer, Monarch didn’t complain, instead, he grinned.

“You’d better answer properly. Violating the Lawmaker’s constraint isn’t as light a matter as you might think. Something vague like ‘I don’t know who the messenger was’ isn’t going to cut it.”

Judging from his attitude, the price of breaking the contract must have been quite horrific.

But Turan, unfazed by the warning, simply stood still and stared at his opponent.

A few seconds passed.

When Monarch saw that Turan remained unaffected, his face twisted.

“...You’re really fine?”

“Apparently, your power also thinks my answer is the truth.”

For the first time, a deep sense of displeasure appeared on Monarch’s face, a face that until now had remained relaxed, showing no more than mild irritation even when uncomfortable.

*****

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